What Constitutes A Friend
by Georgshadow
Summary: Al goes along with Noah's amorous confession to help an old acquaintance steal some cash. As the situation intensifies, Al makes a surprising revelation. SLASH.


**A/N:** A few minor edits have also been made since the original posting.

It was my intention for this to be kinda tongue-in-cheek. So, while I made a lot of effort to keep things relatively canon and IC, just keep in mind that it's okay to laugh at this.

I'm aware it's a little long. The lemon is right at the end, so if that's all you came here for, I thought I'd let you know. Or, if you're looking to avoid that, I guess you can just not read the end. I don't know what you people want. Either way, consequences will never be the same.

* * *

By coincidence or not, he ran into Sophie in London. Literally. He'd been heading to the bus station when some mod came out from behind a corner. She wasn't watching where she was going; maybe she just didn't care. Either way, all he saw was an orange flash and felt a shoulder dig into his chest a moment later. It wasn't until he turned around to apologize he realized who it was.

"Sophie?" he could hardly believe it was her.

She grinned at him from under her false eyelashes and turquoise glasses. "Alexander Mundy. Fancy seeing you here." Her British accent was getting better, he noted.

"You look different," he told her. He gingerly touched her new, short haircut. "I think I preferred you with braids."

"I'm in disguise, _tovarich_," she said.

"KGB on your tail?"

Sophie laughed and grabbed one of his arms. "Come to my hotel room and we'll talk."

He had no interest in getting tangled up with her, especially if she was in trouble. "I have a plane to catch," he said.

"It won't take long," she replied. Her voice wavered nervously. He could tell she was hiding something.

"Sophie," he tried to reason with her. "I don't want to get too specific, but let's just say I've some papers on me that I don't think _you'd_ like to be caught with."

"I doubt it can make things any worse," she said. "Please, Alex. You're the only person I can trust."

It wasn't like Sophie to beg. Even behind her fake smile, he could see how distressed she was.

"Fine," he agreed. "But if I decide I need to leave, I don't want you trying to stop me."

"I wouldn't dare."

He followed her to the hotel. It was an expensive one, and he wondered where she found the cash to pay for it. Sophie was a small time crook turned double agent who smuggled maps and battle plans to pay the bills—she wasn't a sophisticated thief like him. Sure, their paths had crossed before, but he'd never known her to be one with a flair for luxury. Maybe that was why she picked a particularly fancy place to stay. Whoever was looking for her might not think to look in a place like this.

In her room, Sophie flopped onto the bed and tore off her glasses.

"Do you know, everything looks pink without these lenses," she crooned.

"Groovy, baby," he said. "Are you planning on telling me why you insisted on dragging me up here?"

"Oh, Alex," she sat back up and frowned. "I've made a few little mistakes."

"How little?"

"Well…" she took a nervous breath. "I'm wanted in three countries."

"So?"

"So? How can you say 'so?' They have full profiles on me and everything. Just yesterday I think I saw the fuzz following me."

"Dressed like that, I don't blame them," he glanced at his watch dismissively. He had time of course, but if there were guys actively hunting her down, he didn't want to stick around to meet them. "What exactly do you want me to do for you?"

"I knew you'd be in town as soon as I heard about the Bulgaristanian dignitaries visiting here," she said. "You're working for the SIA."

"The SIA? What makes you think those uptight bureaucrats would associate with me?"

"Don't play stupid, Alex. It's a good deal you've got going. I wish I could steal documents on the taxpayers' dime."

"What are you trying to get at, Sophie? You're a double agent. The SIA is _not_ going to help you, even if they could."

"You don't think so?" She stuck out her bottom lip. "Why'd they help you, then?"

"I'm not a spy. But I am the best thief in this hemisphere." He didn't mind stroking his own ego.

"Sure, Alex, sure. But you couldn't even stop yourself getting locked up."

He had to bite his tongue to keep himself from screaming at her. He hated it when some smart aleck like Sophie had to go and talk about that. He hated knowing that no matter how smart he was, there was one man who could say he was smarter, and it _wasn't_ his father.

"Look," he said, fiercely, trying to push the dreaded cop he worked for out of his mind. "I have to get out of here."

"Of course." Sophie sighed. "I insult you and suddenly you're running late for an appointment."

"A plane," he said. "I told you, I have a plane to catch."

"I've got crosshairs trained on me and you're just going to leave me here to die." Sophie folded her arms and looked away.

"Sophie…" he didn't want to irritate her, but he didn't want to make any promises, either. "Look. If you can make it to the States, we'll talk."

"Honest?"

He nodded. "I'll write down the address to the house they keep me locked in. You better swear on your life you'll destroy the paper as soon as you memorize it."

"It's a deal!" Sophie clapped her hands. "There's paper over there."

He sat down at the desk she pointed to and wrote the address.

"You're a real friend, you know that Alex?" she said.

"Sure." He stood back up and handed her the paper. "Goodbye, Sophie."

She blinked her fake eyelashes up at him. "Give us a kiss goodbye, then."

He kissed her on the cheek. "_Goodbye_, Sophie."

* * *

After three weeks he wondered if he should be worried about her. She wasn't his favorite person in the whole world, although he didn't hate her the most. The Bain of his existence, for lack of a better pun, held that spot.

He pondered over that while sitting in his library. He was trying to read some Tennessee Williams but he couldn't concentrate. Somehow he kept thinking about Sophie's obvious disgust regarding his capture. Did the other criminals he used to deal with feel the same way about it? Certainly father would be very disappointed if he knew. It was just that he'd grown too comfortable, too confident in his own skills. That's what he always told himself, at least. He just couldn't fathom that someone like Noah Bain had outsmarted him.

As if on cue, he heard the front door unlock and open. A moment later he was no longer alone in the library.

Speak of the Devil, he thought, but instead said, "Evening, Noah."

Noah sat on the other end of the couch. He pulled off his coat and looked at Al with a rather irritated expression.

"What's on your mind?" Al asked, somewhat cautiously.

"Your last assignment," Noah said.

"Is there something wrong with the documents?"

"Oh, no. The documents are just fine," Noah said. He unlocked his briefcase as he spoke. His voice was soft and low—the proverbial calm before the storm.

"Yeah?" Al didn't like where this was going.

"The issue is that you seem to have a hard time filling out all your paperwork. You know that? This time, for instance, you forgot to tell me about the woman you met." He punctuated this by taking a photograph from his files. "Her."

Al looked at the photo. It was a high-angle shot of Sophie and him in front of her hotel. He should've guessed.

"There's no privacy anywhere I go," he teased, not letting himself show that he'd been caught off guard yet again.

"It's not an issue of privacy, Al! It's an issue of safety." Noah snatched back the photo and glared at it. "Anyway, I thought you preferred blondes."

"I do," Al said. "She's just an old friend of mine."

Noah rolled his eyes. "I can't imagine what constitutes a 'friend' in _your_ dictionary."

"Whatever happened between us isn't any business of the SIA anyway," Al countered. "While I appreciate the concern for my safety, I'd rather not be watched _all the time_." He closed his book and got up, and wandered over to the room's monitor. He glared into the camera lens. "Maybe you can empathize if you pretend real hard."

Noah was silent for a moment, probably trying to come up with an equally witty rebuttal. However, when he spoke, he simply said, "I can."

Al turned back around to look at him. "I doubt you know what it feels like to be under the constant scrutiny of the law. I always have to be on guard. Do you have any idea what that's like?"

"Yes," Noah said, completely straight-faced. "And that's why I've decided to tell you the truth."

"Truth?" There was an unusually delicate tone to Noah's voice, and it made Al awfully curious.

"That and the fact that you're going to get yourself killed if you're not careful, and I'd like you to know the truth before that happens..."

"What _truth_, Noah?"

Noah took a breath and studied his hands, which were folded on top of his briefcase.

"I hope this doesn't upset you, Al," he began slowly. "I asked for extra people to watch you on that last assignment. I ordered them to follow you."

"I already know you don't trust me, Noah. It doesn't upset me to hear that," Al said. "I'm surprised you don't have guys following me on every assignment."

"I wish I could. The SIA won't waste their money on assignments they don't expect you to live through. But I always try." Noah finally stole a quick glance up at him. "I know you don't believe me when I say this, but I care about your safety."

"That's real sweet," Al said, hoping the sarcasm wasn't too much. He couldn't help himself. "I suppose you're going to tell me I need to stop seeing women on my assignments."

"Yes, I am. And I want you to start carrying a gun." Noah said. He wasn't joking. Nor did he show anything but a serious attitude when he added, "I worry about you when you're gone."

"You worry about getting your funding cut as a punishment for losing me," Al said. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Noah just wasn't a very affectionate guy. He sometimes wondered if Noah had any feelings at all. He'd never even seen him put the moves on any of those sexy secretaries he surrounded himself with.

Al kept himself from thinking what his instincts hinted at. What was this truth Noah was so concerned about sharing? A knot formed in his stomach, and he felt the way he did whenever he was caught on one of his assignments. He felt exposed, although he couldn't say why.

"It's not like that, Al. I can't make you understand unless I say it directly, can I?" Noah paused, searching for words. "I'm… obsessed with you, Al. And I'm not only obsessed with you because it's my job to be."

Al was lost for words, unable to think of anything clever to say. It was difficult, no, impossible to wrap his mind around what he'd just heard. All this business of worrying, and caring, and obsessing... Did that explain Noah's irritating, possessive behavior? And how long had it been that way? From the very start? Part of him was almost proud to think that he seemed to occupy such a huge space in Noah's brain. What a fitting punishment for the man who was responsible for his imprisonment! But now that he knew how it really was, he was the one who felt punished. It was particularly crushing seeing the way Noah waited silently for him to say something. And that tightness in his gut—he felt like there was something lingering on the tip of his tongue that he needed to get out. He needed to say something.

But what could be said? He looked apprehensively to the room's camera. Surely the monitors were turned off. He knew Noah had the authority to do that. He must've come here with the intention of making his confession. Al wondered if seeing that photo was what finally set him off. Maybe it was just an excuse to come over here.

"I knew I shouldn't have said anything," Noah grumbled, interrupting the silence. "I'm sorry, Al. I'm sure I've made you a little uncomfortable."

"You could say that," Al smirked.

"I'll leave," Noah said, quickly. "If it'll make you feel better, I'll send someone else to check in on you next time."

"I don't care." Al wondered if Noah was worried he'd complain to someone. He could get in a lot of trouble if word got to the SIA that one of their guys was "obsessed" with the Magnificent Thief. He wondered if he should assure Noah that his secret was safe, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything at all. He stood silently and watched Noah leave, only settling back down on the couch when he heard the front door close and lock. He picked up his Tennessee Williams book and stared at the pages, wondering if he empathized more with Brick than Maggie.

* * *

Later on in the evening, after he'd grown tired of reading, drawing, exercising, listening to music and all those dreadfully boring things, he tried to sleep but found himself unable to. Troubling thoughts seemed to seep into his mind no matter how hard he pushed them out. Mostly they were questions. _How long has Noah felt like this?_ was one. _Is that why he hates seeing me with girls?_ was another. _Does he prefer me in a cardigan or a sport jacket? _even bothered him at one point.

The most distressing thing was that he kept thinking that he should've said something else before Noah left. He did wish he hadn't been so flip. Every time he remembered the look on Noah's face, that tense feeling kept coming back.

Finally, distraction arrived at his front door, knocking. He wasn't expecting a visitor, and wondered if it was Noah again. He threw on a robe and stumbled to the door, trying to think of something better to say to him this time. Much to his surprise, it was someone completely different.

Sophie smiled up at him from under an auburn wig and a pair of horn-rimmed spectacles.

"I bet you thought I'd never make it," she said.

"I hoped you wouldn't," he said, stepping aside to let her in. She had no luggage, and he wondered what she'd been through to get here. Honestly, she was right. He never believed she'd cross the Atlantic in one piece, and he had no idea what to do with her. Still, he was glad to have something else to worry about for a while.

"You're funny," she rolled her eyes. "I came up with a plan."

"I'd love to hear it," he said, pointing to the monitor. "But first, allow me to introduce you to my friend, Uncle Sam."

He could see the iris of the camera expand, focusing on Sophie's face.

"You are not permitted to have unauthorized guests, Mr. Mundy," whoever was on duty tonight sighed through the speaker.

"Can't a parolee have a friend over now and then?" he asked, playfully.

The monitor hesitated then said, "Very well. But you know I'll be reporting this, and if anything suspicious happens we'll have someone there in less than five minutes."

"Now there's a real pal," Al grinned at Sophie, hoping the poor guy wouldn't lose his job for this. Noah was going to be pretty angry about it. "Join me in the den, won't you? Would you like some coffee?"

He got her settled in with a cup of instant and a plate of cookies.

"Nice digs," she commented. She looked around the room at all the plush amenities. "Who pays for this?"

"Every American citizen," he admitted. He usually didn't think about the people who'd never known a soft, sophisticated life like his own. He couldn't help but remember that it was Noah who made sure he was always comfortable. Noah gave him anything and everything he wanted… Thoughts like that were what had kept him awake all night, and he tried to stop thinking them. He didn't need Sophie picking up on how pensive he was feeling.

"Alright, Sandy," he began, making sure not to use her real name. He tried to think of how he could hear what she had to say. "I'm not up to much right now. Frankly, I'd like to go back to bed."

"Oh, Alex," Sophie gulped her coffee.

"Hey! Would you like to play a game?" he asked, getting up from the table.

"I didn't go through all this trouble to play a game with you," she groaned.

He retrieved a notepad and two pens, and sat back down next to her.

"It's a barrel of laughs, I promise," he said, handing her a pen. "I'll think of something, then I'll sketch it, and you have to guess what it is."

"Alex—,"

He scooted closer to her, making sure the notepad was obscured from the monitor's view. He took the pen and wrote _Play along._

Sophie looked at him curiously, but did as she was told. "A circle."

"No," he said. _They saw me with you in London,_ he wrote.

"A tomato. Or, no, an apple," Sophie continued guessing, took her pen and wrote a response. _You tell them anything?_

_Never, _he wrote.

"It's a hat. I know it's a hat."

"Keep guessing."

_My plan_, Sophie wrote, _hotel by airport. Real ritzy. The Hibiscus Inn. _"It's a flower?"

"Not even close."

_Let's rob it._

_I can't_ he replied. "Now do you see?"

She glared at him. "No." _I'll fink if you won't help._

_To whom?_

_I'll tell all the guys who ever helped you that you're a rat._

"Come on, it has to be obvious!" He almost forgot to keep talking. _DON'T DO THAT._ He underlined it just in case she didn't get the point. Sophie wouldn't really do it, would she? Would it matter? He guessed a lot of people knew he was working for the Feds. But who could tell what Sophie meant by "rat." She knew a lot of important people. That's why he tolerated her at all—make someone like Sophie angry, and you'll be groveling forever.

"Maybe if you'd learn to draw better," she replied, aware that she'd struck a nerve. Her handwriting was getting slanted and sloppy. _Friday night. Restaurant. Be there. _

"Do you want me to just tell you?" he put down his pen in frustration.

"No, let me guess." She grinned at him. "It's a swan?"

"I don't really feel like playing anymore," he said.

"Are you saying you want me to leave?" her mock-pout was so put-on. He wished he could wipe it off her pretty little face.

"I didn't want you to come here in the first place."

She rolled her eyes. "So much for hospitality." She stood up briskly. "Thanks for the coffee, I suppose."

"Thank the taxpayers."

"Won't you show me to the door at least?"

He got up and, making sure to flip over the notepad before he left it in the monitor's view, followed her, getting her coat and helping her into it. He held open the door for her.

On the step, she paused for one last moment. "I mean what I say, Alex," she whispered. Then, louder she added, "Now give us a kiss goodbye."

He kissed her on the cheek. "Goodbye… Sandy."

When she was finally gone, he stalked back into his dining room. He wondered what the consequences would be if he just double-crossed Sophie and turned her into the SIA as he tore the first few pages out of the notepad. That would be just as bad as not helping her, he decided. If word got out that he'd really finked, nobody would trust him—then again, if she was locked up, word wouldn't get out. On the other hand, if he helped her, and she was free to tell folks about how helpful he was despite his captivity, it would polish his crook's resume even more.

He took the pages to the kitchen and pretended to toss them into the garbage bin. Out of the monitor's view, he crammed them in his pocket, then turned off the lights and headed back to bed. He paused briefly in his bathroom to stuff the papers into the toilet, letting them soak up some water so he could flush the evidence away tomorrow morning. Then he settled back into bed, trying to come up with a plan.

He couldn't make himself focus. With Sophie gone, his thoughts turned back to Noah. He would likely stop by tomorrow to yell at him about the monitor's report. Perhaps he'd say it was because he was so concerned about Al's safety. Perhaps that was why Noah always had words with him if he had lady guests. Or maybe it was just because he was always jealous. Once again he found himself unable to sleep, thinking over every interaction between the cop and himself, wondering if there had been any sign he should've noticed. Well, besides the way he acted when he caught Al with girls…

Worrying about Noah gave him an idea as to how he could get out to that hotel to meet Sophie. It was a little exploitative, but he never minded taking advantage of people he didn't like—even if they liked him. Besides, if Noah thought he was going to get something out of it (_thought_ being the key word), it wouldn't really be like Al was taking advantage of him.

Working out the details, he finally drifted happily off to sleep.

* * *

He'd barely stumbled out of bed and into his kitchen to make some coffee when he heard the front door unlock and open. Angry footsteps found him standing at the counter in his robe.

"Morning, Noah," Al said, without looking up from his percolator. He'd prepared himself for this and he felt totally ready.

"You really have some nerve," the cop growled, apparently recovered from yesterday's affectionate spell. That, or he was so embarrassed he was pretending nothing had happened. Al knew he had an image to maintain, though. If the cameras were running today, he needed to be careful.

"What are you on about now, Noah?" Al realized he felt a little disappointed that he had to filter his words.

"She was here last night—the woman from London. You didn't really think that wig of hers would fool me, did you?"

"I thought the glasses might throw you off," Al shrugged. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Coffee?" Noah sighed, barely keeping his cool. "You'd better forget about coffee for a while. You're coming down to my office and you're going to tell all me about this mystery woman."

"I'd love to tell you everything I know, Noah," Al said, sweetly. He mustered his prettiest smile and looked right into Noah's eyes. "But I'd rather tell you over dinner."

Noah's jaw clenched. "Dinner?" He didn't seem fazed by Al's flirtation. In fact, Al wondered if his little plan wasn't going to just irritate Noah further. After what he'd confessed yesterday, surely Noah wouldn't turn down the opportunity to go out with him.

"That's what it'll take to bribe me," Al finished making the coffee and found a second mug.

"The SIA is _not_ going to pay for a bribe dinner," Noah grumbled.

"If they're so concerned about my lady friend, they'll reimburse you," Al held out a cup of coffee. "Doesn't your federal paycheck cover meals and incidentals?"

"Only if they're paying me for travel," Noah shook his head at the coffee. "I take it with cream."

"Will milk do?"

"Al," Noah prompted. "Forget the coffee. Tell me about the woman."

"About that," Al tried to steer the conversation back the way he wanted it. "I saw an ad in the paper for a place downtown. I think it's Hawaiian themed. A little campy, but that's fun."

"Al."

"How about Friday? Goodness, what will I wear?"

"Al!"

"Is there something wrong with Friday?"

Noah leaned on the counter and drummed his fingers on the corner. Al couldn't quite read him, but he hoped Noah would go for it. He _prayed_ Noah would go for it.

"Fine," Noah said, finally. "Friday it is."

* * *

"I should've considered your expensive taste before I agreed to buy you dinner," Noah sighed, glancing apprehensively around the restaurant. They sat in a corner booth, away from most of the other diners. The room was decked out with gaudy tiki idols and rope-wrapped glass floats. The two men in their tailored suits looked oddly out of place amongst the tacky décor.

"That's always something to keep in mind." Al smiled, gingerly touching the lamp above their table, which was, horrifyingly enough, made out of a real puffer fish.

Noah turned his eyes back to his menu. "By the way, Al, you didn't tell me this restaurant is part of a hotel," he said, slowly.

"I didn't think to." He hoped Noah wasn't getting suspicious. He'd have to warn Sophie to be careful whenever he found her. He wondered if she'd been caught since last time he'd seen her. Part of him hoped she had. That way, he wouldn't have to think of a way to keep Noah out of his hair long enough to help her.

"Look, Al, I know what you're up to," Noah paused, "but don't think I'll forget about that woman if you offer me any… favors."

"Favors?" Al could guess what Noah was thinking. He couldn't blame him for thinking it. Knowing how Noah felt, what other reason would Al drag him down to a hotel, especially when he knew he was in trouble? Well, he had a reason, alright, but obviously he wasn't telling Noah.

Just on cue, that reason appeared. Sophie, dressed just like one of the waitresses, complete with little leis around her neck and wrists, approached their table. He wished he could sink into the floor. He knew she had no way of knowing Noah could probably recognize her halfway across the restaurant by this point, but he really wished she would've been more careful. As she came closer, Al desperately tried to think of a way to make sure Noah wouldn't look at her. What could he do? Noah knew his tactics too well; if he tried to knock over the candle to distract him, for instance, he'd catch on right away.

Distracting him would have to suffice, though. Just before Sophie got to them, Al slid his hand under the table, brushing his fingertips on Noah's knee.

Noah set down his menu and looked at him with almost the exact same expression he wore when he caught Al with one of his girlfriends. Al recognized it now as something more than irritation. He raised an eyebrow, grinned, and ran his hand further up Noah's leg.

Sophie stood right at the edge of the table.

"Aloha, I'm Darcy and I'll be your waitress tonight," she recited. Her American accent wasn't great, but it was better than what she tried when she was in London. "Can I get you gentlemen anything to drink?"

"I'd like a dry martini," he winked at her.

She winked back. "And for you sir?"

Noah didn't lift his eyes from Al. "Just water."

"Swell. I'll be back to take your orders shortly." As she left, she added, "If you need me later, you can find me by the kitchen."

As soon as she was gone, Noah finally broke his gaze. "Didn't you hear what I told you less than a minute ago?" he hissed.

"I did," Al replied. Now that he knew Sophie was here, he worked out the final details. He liked her idea of wearing servers' clothes. He'd have to find out where she got hers and grab himself something to wear.

"So what are you trying to do?"

"I don't like to think of it as a favor, Noah," he said, hesitantly, trying to figure out how to say what he knew he'd have to say. The problem with this situation was keeping Noah out of the way long enough to find the hotel's safe and get the money. He'd stolen from enough hotels that he could predict the floor plan, and the safe would be a piece of cake, it was just finding a way to keep Noah occupied for a few minutes so he could get the job done.

"What does that mean?"

God, he wished he wouldn't have agreed to help Sophie. There was only one thing he could do, he realized, to keep Noah busy while he cracked the safe. There was no way of getting around it.

"Calling it a favor implies that it's not something I want to do," he said. He lowered his voice and his eyes, leaning back seductively. If Noah really meant what he'd said, Al knew he couldn't resist.

"What _do_ you want to do, Al?"

He knew he should stop while he still could. Even if he didn't turn Sophie in, he knew he could still figure out a way to get out of this situation. But something drove him to dig himself deeper into this hole. What, he couldn't quite say. But he just kept digging.

"I'd… like you to get a room, Noah."

Had he really just said it? The look on Noah's face proved he was asking himself the same thing.

"Now?" the cop asked, after a seemingly endless moment.

"Sure. But let's eat before we head up," Al said. He tried to assure himself nothing would happen that he didn't want to happen. He knew how to take care of himself. "Go ahead and get the room now, and when you get back I'll tell you about that girl."

"…Right," Noah kept himself composed as he excused himself from the table and headed to the lobby. Al made sure he was out of the restaurant, then got up and left to find the kitchen.

Sophie was there, just like she'd said. She was lingering outside like she hoped nobody realized she didn't work there.

"Don't come to the table again," he said. "Send someone else."

"Hello to you, too," she rolled her eyes. "Aloha, perhaps."

"I mean it," he said. "That guy I'm with—he's a cop."

"What?" Sophie's jaw dropped. "Why did you bring a cop here?"

"It was the only way I could get out," he said.

Sophie sighed. "I understand. I've been thinking about your situation."

"What about it?"

"After we get the money," she looked around to make sure nobody was listening, "let's escape together."

"I don't think so," Al said.

"Come on, Alex," she placed a hand on his shoulder. "The two of us working together, we'll never get caught."

"The SIA's not gonna let me go without a fight. Anyway, I work alone. You know that." he shrugged her hand off. "I need to get back to the table. After I eat I'll find you and help you, then… I have something I need to take care of. Understand?"

"Fine."

He left her, and made it back to the table moments before Noah returned. Noah settled back down across from him and went back to looking at his menu.

"The room's ready whenever you are. Number 547."

"Great." Al looked at his menu also but suddenly didn't feel very hungry.

"Tell me about the woman," Noah commanded.

"Of course," Al said. He tried to look vulnerable as he prefaced his story. "I…I've been putting off telling you because it's a little embarrassing."

"I've never known you to be embarrassed."

If only you knew, Al thought. "I hide it well."

"What's so embarrassing about her?"

"Well," he began. "She's just a girl I met in London. You were right—the picture you saw pretty well told the story. But she turned out to be one of the crazy ones. You know the kind— doesn't know how to let go."

"I'm not sure I follow."

"Let's just say she got a little too attached." He hoped he sounded convincing. "Fell in love with me, I guess."

"That doesn't explain what she was doing at the house," Noah replied.

"I gave her the address to keep her quiet so I could leave." At least that was the truth.

Noah grimaced. "Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to give out that address?"

"I'm _supposed_ to be an average citizen now, remember? Besides, I didn't think she'd actually come after me!"

Noah settled down again, but added, "she said something about coming up with a plan."

He'd forgotten about that. To buy himself some time, he tilted his head and said, "Noah, I've never noticed how intensely dark blue your eyes are. They remind me of the Mediterranean on a sunny afternoon."

"Come on, Al." Noah looked like he was about ready to lose his appetite, too.

"It's true. They're so lovely." Al ran his fingertips on the cop's knee again. "Don't be afraid to take a compliment when you get one."

Noah pushed Al's hand away. "What did she mean by coming up with a plan?"

"In London, she said she wanted to marry me, but I told her I was a little tied up, so to speak. Maybe that's what she meant." It was the best he could come up with. He hoped it was good enough.

Noah shook his head. Al wondered if he'd buy the story. He had nothing else, except, of course, actually following through on that "favor," which Noah had made clear he wouldn't go for anyway. It wouldn't come to that, though. He wouldn't let it.

"Alright," Noah said, finally. "You didn't have to be embarrassed about that. You could've just told me that in the first place."

"Now I know. Besides, look where my lies have taken us," he smiled prettily and folded his hands on the table.

Noah, apparently satisfied with the story, smiled too. It was a strange thing to see. Al really couldn't recall seeing Noah smile genuinely more than two or three times since he'd known him. Before he realized what he was doing, he found himself reflecting on how nice it was.

* * *

After some fancy Hawaiian barbecue, which Al guessed certainly put quite a strain on Noah's wallet, they left, going out different doors. Al told Noah it would be less likely anyone would get suspicious if they went to the room separately. Noah agreed.

Al quickly headed back to the kitchen. Sophie was waiting for him. They found the storage room, got a room service jacket that fit over his suit, and then slipped down the stairs to the basement. Sophie had found the safe earlier, and she led him to the fake janitor's closet where it was hidden.

He pulled his modified cigarette case out of his pocket and got down to business.

"Can you do it?" Sophie asked, keeping watch at the door.

"Are you kidding me? I cracked safes stronger than this before I lost all my baby teeth." Actually, it was a little cramped and dark in the closet, but he liked to make sure Sophie knew her place.

"Mmhm." She folded her arms. "Have you given any more thought to my offer?"

"No." He set up his miniature stethoscope and started working on the combination.

"Why not?"

"Why do you want me to go with you?"

"I told you already," she said. "If we work together we won't get caught."

"You forget that I've already _been_ caught," he said. "Now hush, I need to hear what I'm doing."

Sophie muttered something unladylike in her native tongue and shifted against him. A bottle of soap dropped to the floor and she bent to get it, pushing herself against him.

"Oops," she said. She stood up deliberately slow, still leaning on him.

He knew what she was trying to do. "Do you mind?"

"I don't," she said. She reached over his shoulder and ran her hand up his chest, breathing into his neck. "I haven't been completely honest with you. I want you to come with me because I want to spend more time alone with you."

Maybe what he told Noah held some truth. He shook his head and frowned at her. "Sophie, I just want to finish this and be on my way."

"What's the big rush, then?" she asked, removing herself from him and leaning back toward the door. "The first time we met, you seemed to feel differently about me."

"Times change." He refrained from pointing out that he'd learned how much he disliked her since then. Maybe it was the new haircut, but he guessed it was her pushy attitude.

She was finally silent. He continued working with the combination. When he was almost done with the final number, Sophie spoke up again.

"Sorry I got mad at you, Alex," she said. "I didn't realize…"

When she didn't finish, he asked, "Didn't realize what?"

She looked at the door. "I guess, well— if it's that cop you were with, I suppose I should let you know, I've done worse for less."

"What are you talking about?"

"Isn't that how you got yourself out of the slammer? That cop?"

He wondered if she wasn't more perceptive than he gave her credit for. "What about that cop, Sophie?"

"All I'm saying is, if you're letting him… well, I understand, okay?"

So she _was_ perceptive.

"No, Sophie!" he tried to sound disgusted. It wasn't difficult because it was partially sincere. "What's wrong with you?"

Sophie smirked. "I take it that means I'm right. I bet that's what you need to go take care of after you're done with this. Is that how it works? If you want to go out, you give him a little something to keep him quiet?"

"It's not like that." He gave up. What difference would it make if he told her what was going on? If she really could sympathize, maybe it was worth telling her. "He got me out of jail because he knows I'm brilliant, and he got me that house to keep me comfortable enough that I won't try to escape." He fiddled with the lock, having a hard time looking at Sophie as he spoke. "He's never made any moves. He's a little possessive, but I always thought it was because he was afraid of what the SIA would do if he lost me."

Sophie's voice changed. It was suddenly soft and soothing. "It's different now?"

"He made it clear to me that it was more than business. He said… he's _obsessed_ with me." He stood up straight and cleared his throat. "But as long as that's all, I'm fine. I'm not doing anything else. I'm not like you."

She ignored the insult and nodded. "Where is he now?"

Al gave up on the lock. "He got a room." It was so weird to say it out loud. He _wasn't_ like Sophie. Was he?

"Is that where you're going after this?" she asked. "I was kidding, but I do want to know if it's true."

"If you're trying to thank me for putting myself on the line like this to help you, I'll just say 'you're welcome' now," he said.

"I was going to say, maybe you should give him a chance."

"What?"

She grinned. "It sounds like he's actually done a lot for you."

"Sure, he's done plenty! It's his fault I got locked up in the first place!" he shook his head. "No way, Sophie. I don't know what's gotten into you."

"Sorry," she shrugged. "I just know what it's like to be in his place. It's not hard to fall for the charms of Alexander Mundy. Even if it's not sincere, a little mutual affection would be nice."

He ignored her and slid the final number into place. The safe swung open. She heard it and gazed over his shoulder at the bundles of money.

"Wow," she sighed.

"You're impressed? This is pocket change compared to what I've stolen." It wasn't entirely untrue. "Do you have a bag or something to put it in?"

"No." She shrugged.

"Great." He squeezed past her and grabbed for the door handle. "You're on your own now. I don't want to get caught with Noah here."

"You use first names?" she teased. "Cute."

He rolled his eyes. "You're disgusting."

"Coming from someone who's running off to appease a cop, that really means a lot." She grabbed his arm before he could leave. "Thanks for the help, dear."

"Yeah. Don't spend it all in one place."

She kissed him on the cheek before he could get away. "Goodbye, Alex."

When he was finally out of that dreadful closet, he took a breath of the cool, clean air and headed back up the stairs.

Sophie had to be out of her mind. He had no intention of doing anything with Noah. He hadn't entirely planned what he'd do when he got to the room, but he guessed he'd just back out and say he couldn't bring himself to let Noah…

What did Noah want to do, anyway? He had to admit, he didn't entirely know how these things worked. Not with a man, at least, although he could certainly make a few guesses. It wasn't something he'd ever wanted to know.

Maybe it was something he should acquaint himself with. Sophie had said she'd done worse for less. He'd be doing it for nothing more than the satisfaction of knowing he'd helped her steal some cash. He wished he hadn't promised her anything. He'd stuck his neck out for her way farther than anyone should.

And Noah had stuck his neck out for Al. Sophie was right, he _had_ done a lot. Al could imagine the SIA wasn't happy about how much money they spent on him—the house alone had to have been a fortune. But somehow Noah made sure the only inconvenience in his life was the surveillance. Admittedly, it was a huge inconvenience, but otherwise, he had his life of luxury and some occasional freedom on his assignments.

He couldn't believe he was actually considering going through with it. He hated Noah! Until the cop's confession, he'd wondered if it was mutual.

_Even if it's not sincere, a little mutual affection would be nice._ He didn't care how much Sophie liked him. He owed her nothing. But Noah was different. Noah was giving, and patient… and possessive, and bossy, and demanding. No, he couldn't do it. He'd just have to go up to the room and apologize for putting Noah through all this trouble, but that was all.

He stopped in the bar to grab a serving tray so he'd look more official. After a thought, he snagged a bottle of vodka and two tumblers. Surely a server would be faceless enough to blend in, and with the drinks there was no way he would be stopped. He headed for the elevator. Room 547, Noah said. He got off on the fifth floor and slowly walked down the hall. He felt like he was going in slow motion.

Refining the words he'd chosen, he almost forgot to pay attention to the room numbers. He hoped Noah wouldn't be terribly upset. Al knew Noah wasn't the kind of guy who'd try to force anything, especially considering what could happen to him if Al finked. What would the SIA do if they found out? Noah's career would be ruined, of course. Would he be locked up? Being a criminal, Al knew the law almost as well as any cop, but he wasn't sure if this would be a criminal act. It wasn't something he ever worried about being caught doing, until now.

He stopped in front of Room 547. He didn't have anything to be nervous about, he reminded himself. They weren't going to do anything. A knot started forming in his stomach just like it had the time Noah made his little confession. He tried to ignore it and knocked on the door.

After an uncomfortably long pause, the door opened just enough for Noah to peek out.

"Room service," Al said, forcing a formal smile.

"It's about time," Noah sighed, stepping aside to let him in. As soon as the door was closed again, he made a quick assessment of Al's attire. "Who did you steal that jacket from?"

"I found it in a storage room." He handed Noah the tray and took off the jacket, hanging it in the closet. After some thought, he added, "Nobody will miss it."

Noah nodded. Al noticed that Noah had changed, too. He was wearing one of the provided satin robes. With what underneath, Al wasn't certain, though his socks and garters were all that seemed to remain.

The thought of Noah being naked so close to him threw him off guard. He tried to say what he'd intended but something stopped him. The knot in his gut surfaced again, and seemed to tighten as Noah led him from the door to the room.

Noah stood by the nightstand and gestured for Al to sit on the bed. He inspected the bottle before opening it.

"And who did you steal _this_ from?" he asked.

"The restaurant. I had to take _something_. I can't help myself. If you want to pay them back, be my guest." If he wasn't mistaken, this was not what he was supposed to be doing right now. What kept him from it? He sat on the bed, wondering if Noah was genuinely mad at him for stealing liquor from the hotel. If only Noah knew what he'd been doing before he came here.

Noah didn't seem to care about the minor theft. He filled the tumblers and handed one to Al. He slammed it, shuddered, and set it back on the nightstand. Noah nursed his silently. The light sparkled delightfully in the alcohol. Al found himself glancing up to see if it had the same effect on those intensely dark blue eyes. It did. Noah caught his glance, and they gazed at each other. Al had never seen that stern face look so tender. It was overwhelming.

He couldn't let this go any further.

"Noah," he said. He just had to force himself to say it.

Noah set down the tumbler and joined him on the bed. "Al," he replied. He put a hand on Al's shoulder and kissed him on the corner of his mouth before Al could say anything else.

Al froze. Why wasn't he struggling? Why didn't he push Noah away and say he'd changed his mind? He didn't want this. What was wrong with him?

He could feel Noah's hands slide around his waist, pulling him closer. His lips moved from Al's mouth to his jaw, and then to his neck.

When he realized Al's unresponsiveness, he stopped. "Al," he breathed against his skin. "If you don't want to do this…"

"I want this." He didn't recognize the voice for a moment. "I want you. I have for so long." Was it really his voice? Was he speaking from some dark corner of his subconscious? Was that why he'd spent so much time convincing himself that he hated Noah?

Noah kissed him again, his lips parting invitingly. Al returned the kiss, finally letting himself run his hands down Noah's arms and over his chest. He grabbed at the loose robe, bunching it in his fists. Noah's tongue plunged past his lips, kissing Al so hard he struggled to breathe. He could feel himself reacting already.

Noah felt it, too, and he sighed in approval as he pulled at Al's jacket. Al reluctantly let go of Noah to undo the buttons, letting the garment fall to the floor as he struggled with his tie and kicked off his shoes. Noah finished pulling off Al's tie and started with his shirt. They studied each other's faces then Noah turned his attention to Al's exposed chest. He ran his hands over Al's body, his palms smoothly caressing the ribs, his thumb brushing over a nipple.

Al's breath caught. He hadn't bothered to pretend the cop's hands belonged to anyone else. Nor did he try to imagine anyone else's mouth as Noah brought his lips and tongue to Al's chest. He didn't need to.

He eased his shirt off and Noah softly coaxed him to lie back on the bed. His hands slid down Al's chest past his stomach, and lingered at the waist of his pants. Al undid the trousers and pulled them open, sliding them far enough to completely expose himself. While he kicked the trousers the rest of the way off, Noah watched, hungrily almost, and untied the belt of his robe. As Al had suspected, he was naked underneath. His burly body boasted a dusting of dark hair. Al let himself gingerly touch the cop's chest. Full of uncertainty, he gazed into Noah's eyes.

Noah took Al by the shoulders and pressed against him, kissing him again, becoming more frantic. Al could feel Noah so intimately close, driving a thigh between his legs, pushing tightly against him. He'd never imagined how it could be for another man to touch him like this, but Noah seemed to know what he was doing.

He panted hotly into Al's collarbone and guided Al's hand to his dick. Al took it and Noah did the same, stroking a loose fist along the shaft. Al did his best to copy Noah's movements. Noah groaned. The sound of it nearly drove Al over the edge. He quivered all over and bucked into Noah's hand as he lingered closer and closer to completion.

"Oh, Noah," he gasped and came with a final thrust, and Noah finished a few moments later.

They rested on each other, violently panting as they caught their breath. Al couldn't believe he'd gone through with it. Noah shifted off of him, sighing and settling next to him. They said nothing to each other for a while. When he had enough strength, Al rolled over and fished a cigarette from his jacket on the floor. He lit it and found an ashtray on the nightstand. Lying on his stomach, he smoked and kept himself from falling asleep wondering if Noah would ever find out about the money disappearing from the hotel's safe. If he did, he might just put two and two together. Al figured it would take more than what they'd just done for Noah to forgive him for that. He knew now that he wouldn't mind.

"Some favor," Al said, softly.

"Some room service," Noah replied.

They looked at each other and laughed.

* * *

end


End file.
